Forgiveness
by Coffeehouse Hermit
Summary: After the end of the War of 1812, Alfred and Matthew are both saddened by their struggles. This is how they forgave each other, after years of pent-up sadness and frustration. Songfic.


Forgiveness

**A/N: This idea occurred to me when I was sitting in my history class, bored, and started twisting the lesson on the War of 1812. This is Can/Ame, so be warned, and hinted America/England. Alfred is depressed after the end of the war, his people are discouraged because of the burning of the capital. Mattie faces the same problems with the added guilt over helping burn his brother's capital. Happy ending, I promise. **

**DISCLAIMER: **** I do not own Hetalia or the AMAZING song Alexithymia by Anberlin. I recommend listening to it! It's great.**

Alfred's POV

_Don't try to wake me up  
Even if the sun really does come out tomorrow _

I had my curtains pulled tightly shut, trying vainly to protect myself from the outside world even if only for the time being. They kept most of the sunlight from reaching my room, as I'd hoped. I didn't want to try getting out of bed this morning. I was sulking, and allowing myself to feel sadness and remorse for what I nearly did to my own brother.

_Don't believe anything you say  
Anymore, in the morn, in the morning _

There was a tentative knock to my door. I pretended I hadn't heard it. Another followed, polite but insistent. Then a whispered "Alfred. Please." I still ignored him. I wasn't answering to anybody today, not my boss, not Britain, and especially not Matthew. Everyone else respected that, why couldn't he? I turned over, feigning sleep. He whispered over and over, ever patient, "Let me in. Please." I still didn't get up. Why should I? I was in no mood to look at that sadness and weariness I knew I'd see in those beautiful violet eyes. I had to keep some shred of my dignity, some semblance of being strong and heroic.

_Bricks to this old house are breaking  
Steel would have weathered but now forlorning _

I already felt as if my nation, my home was slowly falling apart, so shortly after gaining my independence from Arthur. The way he'd looked as he'd watched my capital burn haunted my dreams. The feeling that we'd never get back what we once had lay in the back of my head. I didn't need to see the pain in my brother's eyes, to be reminded of all the ways I've failed as a brother, former lover, and hero. I failed Arthur. I failed Mattie, and almost killed him, on my boss's orders, but against my own beliefs. I'd been too short-sighted to see that it could have damaged Matthew beyond repair if I'd succeeded. I was using this day to feel all my regret, and let myself let it go and rest.

_It's alarming how loud the silence screams  
No warn, no warn, no warning _

My house was empty and silent, save for Canada sitting outside my door, trying to regain his composure. He'd gone quiet by then, too tired to plead with me anymore. I knew we'd forgive each other eventually, but I was in no state to hash all that out at that moment. I wanted to come out as heroic, but I couldn't do that while I was so upset and generally messy. I'd been crying, and who looks heroic with tear stains down his face and red-rimmed eyes? I'd like to meet him, if there was. No, I would stay in my bed, and go on pretending that I hadn't noticed Matthew's presence.

_Addictions fill the table where the family used to sit  
And conversate _

I was remembering the days when I'd been so happy to see Arthur walk through my door, with Mattie in tow. I'd loved spending time with them, even if I didn't always pay attention to Mattie, or England, for that matter. I had just liked having them there so I didn't feel alone. I'd never have admitted it to anyone but myself. I longed for the days when we'd all been happy. I missed having Artie cook for me, and Mattie's perpetual look of innocent interest. I would _not _think of the cruelty I'd read in those eyes as Philadelphia had burned such a short time ago.

_Conversate to the sounds  
To the sounds of a record player  
With its jumping needle and the lights that grow dim over time _

We never even got to enjoy childhood together, Mattie and I. I'd been so self-centered that he hadn't mattered to me, although now I wished I'd spent more time with him, as much as he should have. We still didn't spend time together. I had, until recently, not wanted anything to do with him since he hadn't broken ties with England. I guess I'd felt betrayed that he stayed with Arthur when I'd split with him. Now, I could hear him shuffling around as he paced my hallway. I knew that he loved Arthur like a brother, even if Artie only remembered he existed when he wanted something. A part of me still loved Arthur, too. I knew that what he'd done to me hadn't exactly been his fault or his idea. That didn't stop me from being a little bitter.

_With downcast eyes  
There's more to living than being alive  
With downcast eyes  
There's more to living than being alive_

Matthew slipped into my room, abandoning his politeness from all his years as Arthur's lackey. "Al..." he started, then stopped. He approached my bedside hesitantly. "Alfred." he tried again. He sighed, and I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He took a seat in one of my chairs, near my bed. He held his head in his hands as it drooped between his knees. He pulled off his glasses, setting them on a table behind him. He was gazing down at the rug covering my floor, and tears fell onto the ground.

_Are you where you thought you'd be?  
So beautiful and only twenty-three _

I pushed my glasses up my nose and stole a glance at him. He lifted his head. His eyes, beautiful purple-blue, were puffy and red-rimmed, much like my own. His hair, a slightly darker blond than mine, was all over the place. It was clear that he hadn't slept in a long time, as well. Yet, he still had his same pathetic beauty. My heart went out to him, and I mentally bashed myself for hurting him.

_Opposition rests in the hearts  
With no, with no, with no opportunity _

He seemed to struggle for the right words to say. I teared up a little more as I registered the remorse and anguish in his pale face. I would've said something then, but my pride rose up inside me, preventing speech. I had to hold strong, simply because I didn't want to show weakness.

_It's not that we don't talk  
It's just no one really listens and honesty fades _

Then, quietly, trembling ever so slightly, he said in his gentlest tone "Alfred, I'm so sorry. I was afraid to tell you before, but, back then, I hadn't really had a choice. I tried to tell him not to, but..." he trailed off, took a shaky breath, and continued "No one really listens to me, not even my own citizens." and the sorrow in his voice as he said this expressed more than any words could. And people accuse me of not reading the mood?

_Like a politician lost in the course  
All smiles and no one remembers our names _

We understood it without voicing it. A lot of the things we did were not of our own volition, but of our bosses' and our people's. We had no choice in the matter the majority of the time. Still, we blamed ourselves for hurting other nations we cared about. It was just what you had to deal with as a country. We were slaves to our leaders and our citizens. So I understood all too well what Mattie was feeling.

_With downcast eyes  
There's more to living than being alive  
With downcast eyes  
There's more to living than being alive  
With downcast eyes  
There's more to living than being alive  
With downcast eyes  
There's more to living than being alive_

" I know, Mattie." I said, barely above a whisper. He sighed again, getting up and sitting softly on the edge of my bed. He said, so quietly I could hardly hear him, "I'm so sorry. I really am. I wish I could've done it differently. I knew I could have killed you, and there's no living without you. If you'd died...I would have died too." I replied, struck by these words, "No, you wouldn't have. You can survive just fine without me. I cause you too much trouble." "Al...there's more to living than being alive. You know that." he whispered, and I felt a tear hit my shoulder.

_Don't try to wake me up  
Even if the sun really does come out tomorrow _

I turned over to find him laying next to me. He wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me to him. He stroked my hair, as I'd fallen into tears again. He sobbed into my hair, and whispered "_Je t'aime. __Je t'aimerai toujours, mon frère. J'espère qu'un jour tu m'aimes aussi." _I had no idea what that meant, but buried my face in his chest, breathing in the smell of him.

_Don't believe anything I say  
Anymore, in the morn, in the morning _

As I noticed that he'd drifted into sleep, I whispered "I love you so much. I hope you know that. I'll never fight with you again, Mattie." and cuddled closer, giving in to sleep. I held on to the feeling of Mattie in my arms, and began to understand the concept of really being alive. I never felt better than I did as I slept huddled against my Mattie._  
_

_With downcast eyes  
There's more to living than being alive  
With downcast eyes  
There's more to living than being alive  
With downcast eyes  
There's more to living than being alive  
__ With downcast eyes  
There's more to living than being alive_

**Translation****: "I love you. I will always love you, my brother. I hope someday you'll love me, too."**

**A/N: Yeah, not really much point to this. Random plot bunny invaded my brain, and here's the result. If there are any historical inaccuracies, please tell me. Or any mistakes in my French. Read and review, please. Be nice!**


End file.
